


Goons Adventdrabbles

by thespottedowl



Series: Goons drabbles [2]
Category: Gøøns (Podcast), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: 31 days challenge!! buckle up boys, Alcohol, Boys Kissing, Bûche de Noël, Cancelled Plans, Candy Canes, Caught, Chap 2:, Chocolate, Christmas Fluff, Community: adventdrabbles, Decorating, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fireplaces, First Christmas, Fluff, Fuckbuddies, Hoodies, Hot Chocolate, Implied Sexual Content, Innuendo, Interrupted Kissing, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Morning After, One Night Stands, Rebel (Soup's Dog), Religion, Religious Content, Reunions, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Suits, Underwear, aka rebel wants kisses too, barely any ship whoops, chap 1 tags:, chap 10 tags:, chap 11 tags:, chap 3 tags:, chap 4 tags:, chap 5 tags:, chap 6 tags:, chap 7 tags:, chap 8 tags:, chap 9 tags:, more established relationship (but I can't use the tag twice), more morning after, taking comfort in religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27857782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespottedowl/pseuds/thespottedowl
Summary: prompt list can be found at https://adventdrabbles.dreamwidth.org/ !!thirty-one days of mostly fluffy drabbles, and I'm only starting a day late. what could go wrong?chapters will be labelled with the prompt name and ship name! tags will be updated!
Relationships: Dallas | SnipingSoup/Eric | TheDooo, Dallas | SnipingSoup/Matt | BlargMyShnoople, Eric | McNasty/Dallas | SnipingSoup, Eric | TheDooo/Eric | McNasty, Matt | BlargMyShnoople/Eric | TheDooo
Series: Goons drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029621
Kudos: 26





	1. hugging a dog [snipingdooo]

Absent-mindedly, Dallas thinks that Dooo’s car looks good in his driveway. 

He’s just pulled in. Soup is hovering by the door trying to pretend that he’s not hovering by the door. Rebel’s picked up on his energy, and is currently trying to wriggle in between Soup’s legs.

It’s a good enough distraction as Soup waits for Dooo to finish getting settled. He tries to pretend that his heart didn’t leap when he heard the engine turn off.

He fails. 

He stares at the door, pulse hot and fast with anticipation. Rebel winds around one of his legs and does his best to trip him.

Soup can’t hear the footsteps in the driveway, but he knows they’re there by the way he can feel Rebel stiffen, his ears twitch forward. He tries to pretend like his head hasn’t snapped to the door.

Dooo knocks.

Dallas actually does start counting, fully ready to wait and pretend like he was in another room, but then Rebel is shooting out from underneath him to bark his fool head off at the noise, sliding the doormat out of place with a kick and generally causing a ruckus. It may be wishful thinking, but Soup thinks he hears Dooo’s laugh echoing outside.

He gives up on timing whatsoever, strides across the room to yank the door open with his heart in his throat. Dooo’s smile is blinding, and Dallas scrambles for the latch to the screen.

He fails to consider the fact that his dog has a brain approximately the size of a pea, and all the IQ of one too, and that perhaps, as Dooo and Dallas reach for each other, single-minded in the desire to reunite, the fool dog might fling himself off the stoop into his guest’s chest and knock him completely to the pavement.

Dooo yelps as he hits the ground, and Rebel scrambles for purchase on his chest, insistent on trying to stick his tongue up Dooo’s nose. The older man doesn’t seem upset, per se, bracing one arm on the ground so he can thump Rebel’s side with the other, but Soup is horrified.

“Rebel!” he barks, jumping out of the house and letting the screen slam behind him. “Stupid fuckin’ mutt, c’mon! Get- get-” and he’s using Rebel’s collar to firmly maneuver him off the man on the ground, shoving his hands into his fur and rolling his eyes at the dumb tongue-lolling smile he gets in return. The dog is immediately trying to push into Dooo’s face again, and Dooo laughs, loud and bright, and hugs Rebel tight around the neck, burying his face in his fur so the squirming dog can’t lick him.

“I want my hello kiss too,” Soup says, and it’s not a pout, he swears to it. Dooo laughs again, muffled by fur, and his breath puffs out in a gentle cloud above him.

He does push the dog away, then, and, still lying on his back on the cold stone walkway, he grins that delighted reunion smile at Soup and drags him in for a kiss.

It’s messy and rushed, and Dallas can feel Dooo smiling into it and their teeth clack together and his hand hurts where it’s digging into the pavement on the other side of Dooo’s head and it’s perfect. He wouldn’t trade it for anything. Dooo’s starting to tremble from the cold, but he’s got one hand at the back of Soup’s neck buried in his hair and the other holding his waist lightly and when Dallas pulls away, he gives him the same joyful, lackadaisical grin.

And apparently they took too long a moment to enjoy themselves, because then Rebel gets tired of trotting around the yard and comes bounding back to shove his muzzle back in between their faces.

Soup rocks back on his heels, watches Dooo roll over to his knees and grapple with the dog, shoving him away and waiting for him to come bounding back with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and paws slamming against Dooo’s thighs. He’s grinning, and it turns into a chuckle when Dooo huffs out a light-heartedly defensive, “Listen, I just forgot your dog is a fuckin’ beast-”

He’s right, Dooo’s car does look good in his driveway, and, leaning against his boyfriend, watching his dog pounce on a blade of grass that shifted in the wind, he thinks that Dooo looks good here too.


	2. hot chocolate [mcdooo]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McNasty’s heated concern softens immediately. “Hey,” he says quietly, letting his posture slump into something cooler, low and comforting. “Come inside, let’s get you warmed up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: knows that december involves moving, finals, surgery, and travel
> 
> also me: hur dur writing chalenge

McNasty wakes up in an empty bed. The house -- Dooo’s house, now that he’s processing his surroundings -- is silent.

When he went to bed, Dooo was definitely with him.

To his credit, McNasty doesn’t panic immediately. This time, at least. He gets out of bed, takes a piss, brushes his teeth, and sets up music to step in the shower. He’s pulling off the thin t-shirt he’d slept in when he glances back at his phone, which is currently occupied playing the intro to some Coheed and Cambria song. Discomfort tickles in the back of his mind.

He shuts off the steaming water and dials Dooo’s number. His phone rings from the bedside table. McNasty swears.

This is now an official Serious Matter, so he pulls his tee back on and a hoodie over it. The rest of the house is quiet -- abnormally so, for someone who’s used to living with a dog. But Millie’s at home, warm in California, and McNasty just plods down the cold wooden steps, creeps slowly into the silent kitchen.

The overhead lights are off, but the family room glows with the soft lights draped around the tree. There’s morning light shining in too, muted by a thin layer of clouds but reflecting off the glistening layer of snow.

It’s McNasty’s first white Christmas. Dooo had smiled, bright and toothy and excited, when he’d realised.

Pacing in a short loop around the first floor -- just to be sure, McNasty reasons -- he spots the dark figure huddled on the front steps.

The front door makes a sharp noise when he yanks it open, and Dooo startles, turning to look at him. Even from a few feet away, McNasty can see the fine trembling, the hairs standing on end on his arms. His eyes are wide with surprise, but, illuminated by the pale light, they’re red-rimmed and swollen.

McNasty’s heated concern softens immediately. “Hey,” he says quietly, letting his posture slump into something cooler, low and comforting. “Come inside, let’s get you warmed up.”

Dooo hums, pushing himself up off the stoop. He’s stiff, but he reaches out for McNasty’s hand as he passes him, waiting for him to shut the door firmly and letting himself be led to the kitchen.

“C’mon,” McNasty grunts, pulling his hoodie off over his head. “Put this on, I’m gonna start coffee.”

Dooo hums again, more thoughtfully this time. “Will you make hot chocolate instead?” he asks, and it’s quiet, almost bashful, and McNasty gives him a warm look that he misses, too busy burying himself in McNasty’s too-large hoodie. “There might be powder mix in the cabinets somewhere-” It’s quiet through the fabric wrapped around his head, and he finally pops through, grinning at McNasty with his hair flattened into his eyes.

“You want it in your coffee or just warm milk?”

Planting himself on a stool at the counter, Dooo appears to think deeply about it, but he’s interrupted by a sharp shiver. “Just milk.” He leans on his arms on the counter, tries to wipe his eyes subtly on his sleeves. McNasty graciously pretends not to notice as he puts the cups in the microwave.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he asks, not entirely light-hearted anymore. Dooo’s teeth are still chattering, and he hunches over on the stool, burying himself tightly in the hoodie.

“Ah, c’mon. Like you know anything about snow, Cali boy.”

“I know enough not to go out without a jacket!”

Dooo huffs. “Okay, yeah. Good for you.” He snorts, buries his head in the crook of his arms. McNasty can’t see his eyes and he hates it, suddenly.

“Hey,” he starts again, and oh, that’s an awful lot of tenderness in his voice. He didn’t mean for that, but Dooo looks up at him, quick and vulnerable, and the look McNasty gives him probably reveals a lot more than he meant.

“Just-” he hesitates. “Tell me if there’s anything I can do.”

Dooo’s face hasn’t lost that vulnerability yet, but he nods, eyes flickering between McNasty’s.

“I- yeah,” he breathes. “I just didn’t want to bother you.” It’s too much for him then, and he breaks his gaze, burying himself back in the hoodie. He’s stopped shivering, but he’s still pinning the sleeves tightly across his chest, like he’s hugging himself.

The microwave beeps then, the shrill alarm shattering the fragile tension in the air. McNasty snorts, fetching one of the mugs of milk and stirring a few spoonfuls of cocoa in gently before he slides it to Dooo.

McNasty holds his own to his chest, blowing on it lightly as he watches Dooo. Something settles in his eyes as he examines his boyfriend, glowing in the morning light and slowly unwinding himself from McNasty’s hoodie to sip tentatively at his cocoa. Whatever it is prompts him to round the counter, settle himself in the seat next to Dooo, wrap an arm around him and only grumble a little at the cold nose that presses into his neck.

It’s comfortable, natural for them to stay there, curled into each other and clutching warm mugs to their chest. McNasty presses his lips into Dooo’s hair. “Next time, bother me,” he says quietly, and the chuff he gets from Dooo is comforting. They’ll be okay.


	3. jamaican christmas sorrel [blargmysoup]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want to try something different for Christmas dinner,” Blarg says, and his face is pillowed on Soup’s thigh as he scrolls through recipes on his phone. “Turkey sucks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw // alcohol mention
> 
> short chapter today, the prompt is "jamaican christmas sorrel"! sorrel is known as hibiscus in most of the world, but is traditionally drunk in jamaica around christmastime, often with ginger, rice, and rum.
> 
> have some soft established blargmysoup
> 
> (also this is out of order, this is the prompt for day 9 but shhhh)

“I want to try something different for Christmas dinner,” Blarg says, and his face is pillowed on Soup’s thigh as he scrolls through recipes on his phone. “Turkey sucks.”

“Turkey sandwiches fuck though,” Dallas says non-committally. He’s petting Matt’s hair, halfway paying attention to Twitter, elbow perched on the arm of the couch. “‘Specially the ones you make with grapes and celery.”

Matt hums, shifting over a little to give Ruby a place to jump up. She lands silently on the big cushion, sighing and curling into a ball next to Matt’s hip. “What about Lussekatter?”

“Loosey-what?”

Dallas grins a bit at Matt’s warm laughter. “They’re Swedish saffron buns, dumbass. I think we have saffron leftover from Indian food the other day.” He scrolled down a bit further, frowning. “Sultanas represent Saint Lucia’s eyes, apparently.”

“Well, that’s a lovely image.”

Matt hums again, still grinning loose and sweet. “We could try a Jamaican sorrel? We’d have to figure out something for the main course, but we could definitely add that.”

Soup leans down to read the article over Matt’s shoulder, finally abandoning his phone on the side table.

"It's a drink made with ginger, cinnamon, and sorrel flowers."

"Sounds all right, I guess."

"And rum," Matt adds.

"Well, perfect," Dallas says, grinning. "Let's try that one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just about done writing for this fandom - I stopped watching bc it hurt after shit went down, and I wanted to finish out some wips but I'm not sure what's gonna happen. hopefully I can finish this out but. we'll see.


	4. making candy canes [blargmydooo]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is dumb and short and out of order but I'm also all of those things so I guess it works. enjoy!

"Don't be so rough, baby," Matt admonished. "Use long, firm strokes."

Dooo groaned but did as he was told. "Long, firm strokes."

"That's better." Matt leaned in close, his breath hot on Dooo's neck. "Twist your wrist a little at the end. Yeah, like that," he practically growled.

Dooo exhaled slowly, suddenly far too warm. If he could just get through the next ten minutes....

He continued the stroking motion, using both hands.

Did Matt _whimper_?

"Done!" Dooo shouted. He stepped away from the table of peppermint candy canes and dashed for the bathroom, Matt's laughter ringing in his ears.


	5. gaudete sunday [blargmydooo]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gaudete: latin for rejoice. the third sunday of advent, symbolised by the pink candle on the wreath, a time to break the penitential reflection of the advent season to feast and celebrate joyfully!
> 
> on the third sunday of advent, dooo leaves matt at home to go to church.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this wasn't even the actual prompt for the day but I had some Thoughts about church last weekend and wanted to spill. the only blargmydooo is like. the last two paragraphs. I'm so sorry skdjghasg

Dooo had forgotten how comforting church is.

Not always when the presiders are speaking -- he knows damn well how he tenses up over homilies, waiting for the deacon to say something insensitive. 

But the repetition, the rhythm. Knowing when he’s supposed to kneel, and what words to say, and when to extend his hands and bow his head. He also knows damn well that there’s meant to be more behind it, that the rhythm is not supposed to be as mindless as he makes it, but he’s not here for God, blasphemous as that may be. He just, in some detached way, missed church.

It’s more his parents’ thing, but that also means that it was his thing for eighteen years.

And now it’s been nine months since he’s come to mass, and he’s missed it. For all his wrong reasons, and for all his wrong ways, he shows up to the Saturday vigil. The priest is in the back, in his rose-coloured robes, and Dooo’s shoulders relax.

He wasn’t expecting corona to make church better -- and it’s probably so much worse for all the people who care, who aren’t allowed to sing or speak behind their masks, who Dooo can see mouthing the words anyway -- but goodness, with his social battery drained to zero from finals, it’s a relief to enter the church and not even be expected to sing, to sit to stand to kneel in a pew and have nothing more be expected of him.

He leans his head against his hands as he prays, and doesn’t bother to try to form a string of words. He pushes his knotted skein of emotions in the direction of whatever God will bother to listen to him, and lets it all out in one weak sigh.

The readings blur into the homily, all one mass of “I rejoice heartily in the LORD” and “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing” and “to testify to the light” and “joy, the fruit of the spirit”. Dooo’s shoulders relax. He feels, if not a sense of belonging, then something close to peaceful. Content.

The warm wood of the church is draped with deep green pine garlands, fairy lights glistening throughout. The spicy pine smell is pervasive, biting at the inside of Dooo’s nose when he inhales to start his prayer.

Much the same as the other, he doesn’t bother with trying to settle his jumbled emotions into a straight line of words. Instead, he picks up the damn knot and mentally holds it out, tries to imagine giving the whole thing away, frustrating tangles of emotion and unspoken words held close to his chest.

It sure doesn’t get him any closer to untangling said emotions, but he does feel a little bit lighter standing to walk out, some tension leaching out of his tight shoulders.

Church gave him a comforting sense of contentment, yes, but there’s nothing quite like his boyfriend meeting him at the door, mugs in hand and smiling softly. He knows Matt doesn’t understand his need to hang on to a religion he’s not even sure he still practices, but he’s so good at providing the same comfort at home, curled up on their couch, and between church or Matt, Dooo knows for sure which one he’s picking.


	6. guys wrapped in christmas lights [mcsoup]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It looks good now, doesn't it?" McNasty says, looking from the finished tree to Dallas. There’s something in his eyes seeking his validation, but it settles immediately when Dallas grins, lit up in the warm light of the tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> realized mcnasty needed a little more love in this series!! uhh kith

"It looks good now, doesn't it?" McNasty says, looking from the finished tree to Dallas. There’s something in his eyes seeking his validation, but it settles immediately when Dallas grins, lit up in the warm light of the tree.

Soup had done a lot of the work getting the tree decorated, including bringing boxes of childhood ornaments from his parents’ house. McNasty had teased him light-heartedly over some of the handmade paper-and-glitter snowflakes made by a much younger Dallas, but against the plain, store-bought bulbs, the handmade decorations seemed to bring the tree to life.

"Look, we’ve still got an extra string of lights." McNasty picked up the twinkling lights and looped them around Dallas's neck, pulling him close. He chuckled at the aggravated noise the man made as the lights immediately tangled in his hair. "Our first Christmas on our own."

"Whatever could we do to celebrate, step-bro?" Soup simpered, laughing as McNasty batted him away before reeling him back in for a kiss.


	7. christmas fireplace [mcsoup]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This was not a good idea."
> 
> "You aren't that old." Soup laughed as McNasty tried to push himself up off of his own knees, lighter clutched in one hand.
> 
> "Yes, but my back hasn't forgiven me for all these years of fucking you through the mattress and now I can't get up off the fuckin’ rug-" He snorted at himself, brushing off the knees of his jeans and straightening his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooohohoho boy we're gonna pretend it hasn't been as long as it has thx :]

"This was not a good idea."

"You aren't that old." Soup laughed as McNasty tried to push himself up off of his own knees, lighter clutched in one hand.

"Yes, but my back hasn't forgiven me for all these years of fucking you through the mattress and now I can't get up off the fuckin’ rug-" He snorted at himself, brushing off the knees of his jeans and straightening his back.

"As long as you can get it up—OW!" Dallas yelped as McNasty swatted at him with the still-warm lighter.

"What's the matter now? You deserved that, asshole."

"You got my fucked-up knee."

"We truly are not as young as we used to be. Sure you don’t just wanna go back to our room? Nice, comfortable mattress?"

"Sex by the fire is so romantic, though." Dallas gave a half-joking, pouty simper, and McNasty laughed from where he was putting the lighter away in the kitchen.

"And sex in bed is more comfortable and you can fall asleep the moment you come—"

"Hey!"

"You know it's true."

Dallas grumbled, but raised his arms to greet McNasty when he returned to kneel between his legs on the couch.

“I’d suck you off, but I think I’d actually never get off the floor.”


	8. festive underwear [blargmysoup]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt had hoped to slip out before his partner from last night woke up.

“What do those say?" a voice, rough with sleep, said from behind.

Matt had hoped to slip out before his partner from last night woke up. He'd hooked up with Dallas at the annual Misfits Christmas party and now found himself dressing in one of the AirBnB's innumerable bedrooms just as the sun was coming up. He was trying to leave before Dallas could catch him, hoping the other man would attribute their rushed experience to a fantasy dream or product of too much weed, but he wasn’t entirely disappointed to hear the other’s voice.

"’Spank me, I'm on Santa's naughty list’."

"Wish I'd seen that last night." Dallas's lips curled into a wicked smile. "Come to think of it, you have been quite naughty..."

Suddenly in no hurry to get home, Matt pushed the underwear down and climbed back onto the bed.


	9. bûche de noël [blargmydooo]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is incredible, dude, holy fuck," Soup commented, his fork sliding through his slice of Bûche de Noël.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bûche de Noël: a french christmas cake shaped like a log, usually flourless chocolate cake rolled in chocolate whipped cream. yum

"This is incredible, dude, holy fuck," Soup commented, his fork sliding through his slice of Bûche de Noël.

"I like the chocolate," McNasty said, the evidence of which was apparent around his mouth.

"You didn't actually buy it and just serve it yourself, did you?" Dooo asked.

"Of course not, why do you doubt me like this?" Blarg asked, sitting down to his own portion of the cake.

"I'm impressed you made something this complicated and time-consuming when I’ve heard so many stories from Dooo about how you burn your grilled cheese," Soup said, chuckling as he cut himself another piece.

Matt shrugged, a flush rising high on his cheekbones. "Baking is different."

He wasn't about to admit that he simply preferred them the way Dooo made them.


	10. dressed for the holidays (with no place to go) [blargmynasty]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt stood for a moment, staring at his now-silent phone.
> 
> "I didn't think he'd actually cancel the party, to be quite honest," he said, turning toward McNasty.

Matt stood for a moment, staring at his now-silent phone.

"I didn't think he'd actually cancel the party, to be quite honest," he said, turning toward McNasty.

"His boyfriend is sick, it makes sense. I don’t blame him.”

"I know, I’m just- disappointed, I guess." Matt regarded Eric: he was wearing a sleek black suit, the one that made Matt hot and bothered every time McNasty wore it. "What are we going to do now?"

Eric got a gleam in his eye, the one that made Matt shiver.

"All dressed up with nowhere to go?" McNasty said, walking forward with a pace not unlike a lion’s stalking gait. "Perhaps we should get you out of these clothes before you ruin them."

"How am I going to ruin them?" Matt asked innocently.

"They might get torn." McNasty brought his hand to Matt's nape, his fingers warm against the younger's skin. "Or stained."

Matt had a very clear picture of how both of those things might happen and so did his cock, which continued hardening in his pants.

"I suppose I should take them off then." Matt licked his lips. "Eric?"

McNasty's gaze flickered up from Matt's lips. "Yes?"

"Leave yours on."


	11. christmas tree fail [mcsoup]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Merry Christmas, Soup!"
> 
> Dallas groaned and rolled over, curling up, his eyes squeezed shut.
> 
> "Jesus fuckin’- what happened out here?" 
> 
> Matt’s voice echoed down the hallway, and clearly he wasn't planning on leaving, so Dallas climbed out of bed, not bothering to pull on a robe over his rumpled sweatpants and t-shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so we're going ALL out of order of the prompts list now, but I am hoping to get another batch of these done tonight!! I'm pretty much on bedrest, still healing up from some surgery, so I've got plenty on time :]
> 
> is this one even in character. who knows

"Merry Christmas, Soup!"

Dallas groaned and rolled over, curling up, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Jesus fuckin’- what happened out here?" 

Matt’s voice echoed down the hallway, and clearly he wasn't planning on leaving, so Dallas climbed out of bed, not bothering to pull on a robe over his rumpled sweatpants and t-shirt.

"Did Ruby start going after the tree again or what? You’re gonna have to talk to the vet eventually about—Jesus christ!" he echoed again when he caught sight of Dallas. "Did you get in another fuckin’ bar brawl or-?"

"Honestly, Blarg," Dallas started. He yawned and ran a hand through his even-more-disastrous-than-usual hair.

"Are you planning to tell me what happened to your Christmas tree?" Matt waved at the toppled over evergreen, broken ornaments scattered across the floor.

Dallas had planned to clean it up last night but ended up a bit distracted.

"What's on your neck?" Matt asked and then his eyes widened comically. "Did you do this yourself?"

"Why are you all yelling this early?"

Soup didn't think he'd ever forget the look on Matt's face as he took in McNasty standing in Dallas's living room wearing nothing but a pair of joke holiday boxers that he had given Dallas the year before.

The ones with mistletoe on the front.

“Obviously you guys already know each other.” Dallas gestured vaguely, and Matt very pointedly fixed his eyes on a point somewhere to the right of Dallas’s head. 

"Oh my fuckin’ god." This time Matt whispered in horrified astonishment. "He destroyed your tree?"

Eric smirked, though it wasn’t necessarily intimidating, considering he was still rather naked behind Dallas. "More Soup’s fault than mine, really."

"Uh, Blarg?" Dallas said.

"Yeah?"

"I'll see you tomorrow at Dooo’s party, all right?"

"Oh, sure. Great idea." Matt turned on his heel, still startled, and walked back towards the front door. "Might want to clean up the glass, too. Don't want any bits in your bits," he said, and the door slammed behind him.

"Kill me," Dallas said, groaning.

McNasty chuckled sleepily, already heading back towards the bedroom. "Not a chance."


End file.
